


Timeless

by HufflePuff_Dreamer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amnesia, Angst and Tragedy, Auror Harry Potter, Developing Friendships, Dimension Travel, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Famous Harry, Friendship/Love, Harry Potter in the Muggle World, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter Friendship, Lost Magic, Muggle/Wizard Relations, Student Hermione Granger
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:54:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27664328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HufflePuff_Dreamer/pseuds/HufflePuff_Dreamer
Summary: "I'm Harry Potter," he said, his face grimacing at hearing his own pathetic words. Seriously, what difference does a total idiot have from the savior of the bloody Wizarding world? It feels very close to nil.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 48
Kudos: 84





	1. Just Another Pretty Stranger

He didn't know he was watching her until the girl behind him coughed and said he was blocking the way. Acting on instinct, he quickly turned to apologize before hurrying to walk to the door.

He adjusted his dark blue sleeve to check his watch. It says 9:15 AM. He has a flight at 11:00 AM but he only needs thirty minutes to get there by car. Or if all else fails, he could always just apparate.

"Man, are you going to leave or what?" said a voice from behind him, and he turned to realize that he was blocking the exit.

Muttering his apologies, he walked to the side, cursing to himself even as he pulled out a random book from the shelf and quickened his strides before he could change his mind again.

It was with sweaty hands and shaky breath that he found himself standing in front of the table in the farthest corner of the library.

"Hi, my name's Harry Potter," he said, drying his hand on his cashmere coat before gesturing to the chair across hers. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

The girl who was occupying the table alone looked up from her book to stare at him quizzically. He mentally scolded himself, guessing that she probably thinks he's either a creep or a stalker or both for asking to sit with her when there are obviously too many empty tables around.

"Ahm, sure," was her soft and hesitant response before she returned her gaze to the page she was reading.

Disappointment hit him like a flash at how uninteresting he must be for her. But he released a relieved sigh nevertheless. A bloke must take what he's been given.

Being very careful not to make any sound, he pulled out the chair across hers and made himself comfortable. Trying not to stare at the girl in front of him, he pretended to read and tried not to roll his eyes at how he just had to pick a book on prophetic dreams of all things.

Didn't fate realize how much he detested divination?

It took exactly ten minutes and fifteen seconds before his boredom was disrupted by her giggling.

He allowed himself to look, but he couldn't help it if he smiled. Her eyes had never once left the book even as she turned the page.

A chuckle escaping his mouth caught her attention though, and she smiled sheepishly at him.

"Sorry," she said, looking embarrassed. "I didn't mean to disturb your reading. Just that, the character said something humorous."

"Oh, I don't mind. You have a beautiful laugh."

Her eyes widened at his impulsive answer, and he instantly realized his mistake.

"I mean-" he started to say desperately, wracking his brain on how to make amends, "I didn't mean-, err I was just-, well you have-"

"A beautiful laugh," she said, the corner of her lips quirking into a smirk, and he was caught mesmerized by her brown eyes that were sparkling with mild amusement. "Yes, I heard you the first time."

He felt his cheeks getting warmed and he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"I'm Harry Potter," he said, his face grimacing at hearing his own pathetic words. Seriously, what difference does a total idiot have from the savior of the bloody Wizarding world? It feels very close to nil.

But at least he got to hear her laugh again. He wanted to both cry and laugh when she decided to take pity on him.

"And I'm Hermione Granger," she said at last, eyes alternating between him and the very interesting book she has in front of her.

"What are you reading?" he asked, desperate to keep her attention.

Her mouth fell slightly open in disbelief, but she quickly closed it and eyed him curiously.

"William Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice," she answered.

He nodded, and did his best to look thoughtful as he recited the only line he remembered from his late night reading.

"The quality of mercy is not strained. It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath. It is twice blest: It blesseth him that gives and him that takes."

She gasped at his words, and hurriedly turned the pages to check the accuracy of his recital, no doubt. The way her face brightened was enough tell that she must have found what she's looking for.

"That's very precise, I must say," she commented, amazed.

He shrugged.

"I do my reading is all. Your name, Hermione, I remember it's also a character from one of Shakespeare's plays, isn't that right?"

She smiled at him then, a real smile. And he had to gulp at the invisible arrow that pierced through his heart and caused his chest to tighten. Merlin, he missed that smile.

"Yes, it is," she agreed, "My parents adore Shakespeare so they named me after Hermione of The Winter's Tale."

"The virtuous and beautiful queen. I think it's fitting."

He stifled a huge grin when he realized he was able to make her blush. He thinks that he would remember this day forever.

"Thank you, I suppose," she said, still looking embarrassed.

He couldn't help smiling kindly at her. "Don't mention it. It's the truth anyway."

But then it was her turn to look thoughtful and he watched her as she frowned, "But how can you say I'm virtuous? It's our first time seeing each other."

Her question was logical and expected, and his only response was to stare into her eyes and hope that the windows through his soul would not convey everything he was determined to hide from her.

He wanted to tell her she's wrong. He wanted to feel smug because she's never wrong. But he couldn't tell her that. Just like he couldn't tell her that he knows how brilliant, how kind, how sacrificial, and how brave she is.

And so he stares at her, unaware of the billion questions forming on her mind about the mysterious stranger with the most beautiful bright green eyes she had ever set her eyes on.

Neither dares to speak because neither knows what to say anyway. But neither had to, since it was his phone that broke the silence for them and earned them the scathing looks from the other three people in the library.

"Sorry," he mumbles, silencing his alarm and feeling amused with himself for apologizing without meaning to for the nth time today. But then the amusement dissipated and disappointment washed over him again like a tidal wave at the message that popped on his screen.

"I’m needed now," he said, unable to keep himself from sounding sad, "I have to go."

"Oh," was her response, "Well, you should leave then."

"It's a pleasure to meet you here."

"It was nice knowing you Mr. Potter."

"I'm not Mr. Potter. Well, I am, but I'm not. I'm just Harry, not Potter, but-" he stopped himself when he saw her eyeing him and restraining a laugh. "I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

She giggled.

"A little bit, yes."

"I'm sorry, I'm just-"

"Harry. Just Harry. I get it. Well, it was nice knowing you Harry."

He nodded and pulled out of his chair with a defeated sigh.

"Duty calls. But I want you to know, it really is a pleasure to see you here. I do hope I'll see you again and soon, Miss Granger," he tells her, offering her a handshake and trying to not get too hopeful when he spotted her trying to hide a frown at his statement.

She didn't need to know how painful it feels to call his best friend of many years by her surname.

"Goodbye Harry."

He didn't hesitate to grasp her hand tightly when she accepted his hand.

"Goodbye," he said, reminding himself who and where he is, and how awkward and uncomfortable it would be for the both of them if he suddenly bursts into tears.

So not without great difficulty, he let go of her hand and walked away, only allowing his mouth to speak when he thinks she couldn't hear him.

"I really hope to see you again, Hermione."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally posted Chapter 2 :D Thank you for reading. Don't forget to leave a comment.
> 
> TO GOD BE THE GLORY!


	2. The Savior's Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "She looks content with the life I gave her,” the boy discloses. “She's safe, and she's happy. That’s all that matters, isn’t? It’s a good thing. Maybe,” he sighs, “Maybe, it’s best to leave her there."
> 
> Kingsley’s forehead wrinkled in grimace. "But, are you?"

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" The annoyed reprimand came in greeting the moment he stepped out of the minister's fire place covered in flu powder.

Kingsley Shacklebolt in his youth was a man whose very aura demanded respect. But now in his forties and glaring at the savior of the Wizarding World, his intimidation skills was top notch that the young auror handing him the papers from across his desk looks just about ready to pee in his pants.

Taking pity on his junior, Harry sighs and calmly dusted himself off, the look on his face revealing nothing as he came to stand before the Minister of Magic.

"Kingsley," he greeted politely, meeting the minister’s glare with a bold look of his own.

"Leave us," the minister ordered the young auror without looking away from their fearless exchange.

The boy looks so shaken and tripped himself three times in his hurry to get to the door.

“Still scaring the younglings, I see,” Harry commented lightly, breaking the tension in the room the moment they heard the clicks of the closing locks.

Kingsley pinched the bridge of his nose and waved his wand in a nonverbal muffliato to give them privacy.

Sighing and leaning back on his office chair, the minister's transformation from the most powerful man in the government to Harry’s mentor and friend was astonishing.

"Son, you know I hate to repeat myself, but for the love of Merlin, you cannot keep doing this to your protection squad! Rufius and Don were in panic when they reported that they lost you, **_again_** ," Kingsley reproached, arms crossed and sounding very much exasperated that he felt the need to strongly emphasize on the last word.

Harry bit his lower lip to stifle laughter and the minister’s glare narrowed even more, seeing through his act.

Haven’t they had the same conversation for over a thousand times now?

Carelessly messing the back of his head, Harry invited himself to slump on one of the vacant chairs across the minister’s desk.

"Well, I can't help it, alright? I had to check on her," he casually confessed, feeling the exhaustion start to creep in now that he doesn’t have to pretend anymore.

He presses the back of his head to the head rest and closes his eyes, hoping to get a few minutes of nap.

Normally, Kingsley would have let him. It’s always been their routine no matter how much he half-heartedly attempts to stop from using his office as a sleeping lounge.

But this time it’s different because they have business to discuss.

"We found two," Kingsley stated, prompting his eyes to open.

"What?" Harry blinked, a rush of adrenaline replacing his sleepiness.

Without words, the minister pushed the papers the junior auror had brought for him to see.

Harry didn’t hesitate to grab the file, quickly flipping pages to devour the information, his grip on the document tightening with every line he read.

Anger so intense filled him, and they both sense his magic crackling in the air like lightning ready to strike at his command. “How many left?”

"We're still looking for more information but if the pensieves submitted are to be believed, then Bellatrix only managed to make three human horcruxes before Molly killed her. We're keeping the two in the new Azkaban. We've also placed traps and decoys to catch the last one," Kingsley debriefed.

"She needs to pay," Harry growled.

Kingsley nodded.

"What are you going to do when we find the last one? Are you going to bring Hermione back?"

Harry massaged his forehead and wet his chapped lips, suddenly feeling very thirsty after finding out this new development.

The minister summoned an elf to bring them cups of tea and a glass of water for Harry.

"Did you even eat?" Kingsley asked knowingly, already hating the answer.

As expected, Harry shook his head.

"No time," he shrugs like his health is a matter of no consequence.

Kingsley looks constipated, groaning and feeling just about ready to combust in accumulated frustration. With a snap of his fingers, he’d made the elf bring them food, and gave the retired auror one of his famous cold, hard glares to urge him to eat.

He counted Harry’s tired chuckles as a win, but didn’t stop giving him the cold look until the boy had eaten half a plate of shepherd’s pie.

“Happy now?” Harry mocks.

"Look at you! You're not even taking care of yourself," Kingsley chastises, but Harry was unfazed, too busy munching on his pie.

There was tiredness in his posture, and it reminds the older man of the war that apparently hasn’t ended yet.

Harry’s voice was devoid of emotion, his eyes lost in a world of his own making that the minister wonders just what he’d seen where he went.

"She looks content with the life I gave her,” the boy discloses. “She's safe, and she's happy. That’s all that matters, isn’t? It’s a good thing. Maybe,” he sighs, “Maybe, it’s best to leave her there."

Kingsley’s forehead wrinkled in grimace. "But, are you?" he asks.

The laugh that he got in response was hollow. “It doesn’t matter what I want,” Harry says, shaking his head.

“Says who?” Kingsley goaded. “Because I know that that girl did not give up her magic just so you can live a hollow life. She believed you are worth saving, and that’s the only reason she did what she did.” And as if that was not enough, Kingsley added the unpublicized complicated twist to one of the most controversial friendships in the Wizarding World.

“Merlin, you opened a bloody portal to another dimension just to keep her safe, Harry! Who does that?"

But the boy remained silent, making the minister even more vengeful towards the demented black heiress on his behalf. Kingsley had known the boy for years now. He’d watched him grow and turn into the young man he is now, the same one who’d had more face-offs with deaths and losses than all grown men he’d met combined.

And yet here he is, still standing, still shouldering the weight no average wizard can carry.

With his heart breaking for the young man he had mentored and treated like his own blood, the minister says, “You’re still here Harry. You’re still alive, still breathing. What they did to her was wrong, but it’s already been done. She made her choice to save you and your friends. So don’t waste her sacrifice by disregarding your own welfare to avenge what you couldn’t change. She’ll hate to know you’re slowly destroying yourself, and what’s worse is that you don’t even seem to care.”

A long wave of cold silence passed between them.

Kingsley welcomed the quiet, but accepted that it was only a matter of time before the volcano erupts. And erupt, it did.

Harry’s temper was like Mother Nature in turbulence.

"What do you want from me Kings?” the words were uttered huskily in defeat, and Harry felt the tears of anger and loss because he’s just so, so tired of getting the short end of the stick in life.

His life is a series of losses that he could hardly find rest. They could argue and have the same conversation again and again, but the reality doesn’t change. His reality still sucks.

“I already lost her.”

“You can’t think that,” Kingsley was quick to assert, and Harry laughed like a crazy person, because he really wanted to believe him but he can’t. Things have always been easier said than done for Harry.

“You saved her Harry. You brought her there to keep her safe. She gets the chance to live a full life with her parents because of you. When this all ends, you can always bring her back and our world would be lucky to have her.”

And as if his words had struck a nerve, Harry stood up and began to pace, his tormented cries enveloping the room with angry magic that broke a few sculptures, “Yeah? Well, what good would that do? She doesn’t even know I am! Her memory and magic have been wiped, and she has no recollection of anything and anyone in our world! Even if we catch the last of Bellatrix’s horcrux, what will that change for her? I have no way of bringing her magic back, it’s a dead end. The one thing that connected us, the one thing that links her to us is gone. Don’t you get it? Don’t you understand? No matter what I do, I couldn’t get her back because I know she’ll hate it. What’s the use of knowing there’s a whole other world that she couldn’t be a part of? She'll feel useless without her magic and she’ll hate it and she might even end up hating me because as always, I’m the one to blame! Ever since I met her, she’s been giving up so much for me, and now, when it’s finally my turn, I have nothing to offer her, I’m fucking useless!”

Kingsley just waved his hand to repair the damage. “Is it really just magic?” he dared to ask.

“What?”

“Is magic just the only thing? Because magic or no magic Harry, it is so very obvious you still care for her, maybe even more than you used to when she’s with us,” Kingsley patiently clarifies, watching him backpedal as if he’d been caught. “So I ask you again. Is this really just about bringing her magic back?”

More silence passed, this time followed by a bitter laugh as the Boy Who Lived cried bitterly on his floor.

“You’re right,” Harry breathes, lifting his head and looking him dead in the eyes. “It’s about so much more. It’s about me failing her, and me being the reason she doesn’t get to live her dreams, her real dreams. Don’t you get it Kings?” Harry asks brokenly. “She’s living another life, because I already got her killed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I was content to leave the first chapter as a one-shot. But then I keep getting reviews (in this site and others) asking for more so I ended up writing a few chapters to keep it going. 
> 
> So far, I think I have four more in the line up that require editing. You can say the story matures as the author does HAHA. 
> 
> Anyway, so what do you guys think? Is it worth your while? Thank you for reading, and don't forget to leave a comment if you want more. :D
> 
> P.S. I'm trying to balance this among other stories so please be patient with me. But the more reviews I see, the more I am encouraged to update the story. Just so you know ;)))


	3. Boy Meets Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You came back," she whispered, not unkindly. "And you called me Hermione."
> 
> Her smile was radiant, it was blinding. He could feel his heart warming up inside his chest at the comfort of her familiarity.

He shouldn't even be here. But what the wizarding world doesn't know won't hurt it.

The rain was pouring like crazy. He could feel goose bumps all over him but there was no time to cast a drying charm because people have already seen him enter the building dripping wet. So with a sigh and a pair of very uncomfortable soaked shoes and socks, he discarded his umbrella on the rack and showed his transfigured identity card to the police guard.

Unlike yesterday, the library was packed with students and employees alike. He'd had enough training to scan the crowd in seconds before he knew she wasn't among those sitting in the tables. Even so, there were too many shelves with spaces between them that he didn't lose hope just yet.

Hiding himself behind an empty aisle, he was finally able to cast a non-verbal drying spell before continuing to search every nook and cranny to find her. He was quick enough to have done three rounds in the whole library before he admitted to himself that she didn't come.

With a defeated poise, he started to head to the exit. And since he wasn't really looking ahead of him, it was inevitable that he would bump into someone heading the direction he'd just left.

"Ouch!" the person yelped, having hit her nose on his chest.

Harry's head snapped so fast, his neck hurt from whiplash.

"Hermione?" he asked excitedly, already holding her by the arms to keep her steady. Seeing her raise a hand to her face, he frowned. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

Later, he would tell himself he reacted out of habit. That what other people would consider over the top, he would do for her without even thinking.

He was too focused twirling the flabbergasted girl and scanning her from head to toe, then from front to back, that he didn't realize they were garnering quite the attention.

"Harry," she whispered his name, the sound of her concern freezing him on the spot.

At the sight of her blushing and unable to meet his gaze, his eyes widened and he retracted his hands that had been drying her hair with his scarf, realizing his mistake, but it was too late.

"Ahm…er…you see I was-…I meant, Miss Granger. Sorry, I was just…" _excited to see you,_ he tried to express, restraining a groan with each pathetic attempt that sounded wrong even in his own head.

_What a disaster!_

She must think him deranged. What sane person would be so brazen in displaying protectiveness over a stranger he'd just met?

"Sorry," he said in frustration, feeling exasperated and buried in the deep well of his own shamelessness that he was unprepared when her next words came without accusation.

"You came back," she whispered, not unkindly. "And you called me Hermione."

Her smile was radiant, it was blinding. He could feel his heart warming up inside his chest at the comfort of her familiarity.

"Look, sorry. It's just…I tend to fuss over people important to me," he admitted with a scratch on his head, he felt her eyes dart to his scar but his bangs hid it so quickly. Perhaps later, there would be time to tell her a short version of his story. But for now, all he could do is to try to be honest with her at least. "I guess you can call it an occupational disease. I was worried I got you hurt."

"Oh. Well, I'm okay," she assured him with a shrug. "You just took me by surprise is all."

Then, looking uncomfortable again, she intoned shyly, clutching her bag even tighter to her chest as she pleaded him with her eyes. "They're all looking at us weirdly, do you know?"

Harry felt his brow rise, amused at her concern. She was right, _like she always was,_ he knows. But oddly enough, he realized he was alright with the attention.

They were in another realm after all. To these people, he was no savior. He was just a boy, embarrassing himself in front of a girl.

Just the thought of what must be going in these muggles' heads makes him feel abnormally content and just plain curious. Perhaps, if he was right, then were they seeing exactly what he 's feeling?

Hermione must have noticed him dozing because she started teasing him.

"The rain must have gotten in your head," she smirked, her gaze and tone a mix of amusement and embarrassment.

 _Wrackspurts_ , he thought and laughed.

"Yeah, that must be it."

"So, Harry, have you found a table?" she asked conversationally. "I only just got here. It's pouring outside. If it's alright with you, I was hoping maybe we could share again?"

"I haven't actually," he answered her truthfully, suddenly feeling foolish for not having thought that she was on her way. "But I could look for one right now. Stay here," he tells her confidently. "I'll find us a table."

It was her turn to smile. "Sure."

Ten minutes later, he was almost tempted to imperius some muggles just to secure them a table. But he knows doing so would go against everything she stands for.

It was with great embarrassment that he returned to her, prepared with an apology.

"You couldn't find any, could you?" she asked readily, standing on the same spot he'd left her and looking amused.

He shook his head sadly.

"No, sorry."

She laughed then, taking him by pleasant surprise when she touched his arm. "Hey, it's just a table. No need to be so sad," she comforted. Then sounding more like the Hermione he remembers from long ago, she encouraged, "Come on, we can find a good spot between the shelves! They do have sockets there, I think."

She was quick on her feet, and for a girl twice less than his weight, she was strong enough to drag him around. Harry restrained himself from laughing, but allowed a huge grin to plaster on his face, his eyes unable to keep from adoringly staring at the hand clutching his arm.

"How about here?" she asked after some time, having led them to an empty quiet aisle between the wall and the shelf of health magazines, it was only too perfect for reading in peace.

"Looks perfect," he answered approvingly.

She gave him a smile before she distanced herself to get comfortable sitting on the carpeted floor with her back leaning on the wall. It was then that he realized she must still be feeling cold.

"Hey," he said, already pulling off his cashmere coat to offer her. "Use this. We don't want you catching a cold."

And before she could even consider to decline, he had wrapped it around her shoulders.

"Thank you," was all she can say, as he'd already pulled away in pretence of scanning the shelves.

"My pleasure," he replied nonchalantly, picking up a random book and hiding a smile with his back on her.

This time, he really was starting to believe in fate.

 _ **Boymeetsgirl,** _the title reads, making him wonder if perhaps, the library was reacting to his magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry the late update. Thank you for reading! So, what do you think? Reviews are very welcome!
> 
> Happy New Year!
> 
> To God be the glory!


	4. My Wish For You Is...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was standing there; light and bravery, staring at him with tear struck eyes. But his attention was caught up to their torturer, gloating maliciously at the center stage of the hell she had created just for them.
> 
> "Well, well, well," the fracture of Bellatrix's soul jeered, her deranged voice perfectly fitting the face of her chosen horcrux. She looked the same age, and has the same build, and her eyes has the same thirst for murder and torture. Harry Potter remembers seeing the face in the news about an escaped mental patient.

Once in a while, his visions would assault him. Memories of that evening would pester and probe until he has no choice but to relieve his worst nightmare coming to life.

_She was standing there; light and bravery, staring at him with tear struck eyes. But his attention was caught up to their torturer, gloating maliciously at the center stage of the hell she had created just for them._

_"Well, well, well," the fracture of Bellatrix's soul jeered, her deranged voice perfectly fitting the face of her chosen horcrux. She looked the same age, and has the same build, and her eyes has the same thirst for murder and torture. Harry Potter remembers seeing the face in the news about an escaped mental patient._

_"Go ahead and take your pick Potter. I'm even being lenient giving you the choice," she continued to gibe, waving her wand threateningly at them. "It couldn't be that hard. After all, it's just a matter of choosing between your two best friends and the girl you love. Romantic, isn't it?"_

_"Don't listen to her Harry!" Ginny cried through her bindings, her screams growing hoarse as the poisonous vines tightened around her throat, she was left gasping for air._

_"Mate! Go ahead and save Ginny! Don't worry about us!" Ron's voice came next, and even in the darkness, Harry could hear him kicking and punching in an attempt to free himself from the same vines that were slowly draining away their magic._

_Harry found his voice lost amidst their torture._

_The only one who hasn't spoken was Hermione, and it was her wisdom he found himself desperate for._

_"It's easy," she said at last, breaking the horrific silence with her certainty. Harry turned to the sound of her, hopeful._

_But that hope quickly turned to dread as the runes lighted around her, covering her whole body with light at the same time Bellatrix pointed her wand at her._

_"HERMIONE!" they screamed, doubling their efforst to break free as they watched those trapping her grow thorns and spill her blood._

_"Mudlood," the horcrux sneered, laughing like the maniac she was before spitting at the pool of the blood she caused._

_Walking to him, she forced his chin up so he was forced to watch the fight leave his best friend's eyes. "Looks like she made the choice for you. You must be so happy to have someone so loyal, she'd die for you in a heartbeat. Tell me Potter, is it worth it? Years of foolishly forcing herself to be part of our world and this is all she amounts to. A sacrifice," she smirked. "Her blood that means nothing, spilling for the sake of the savior of the wizarding world and his love. How fitting for a mudblood, the worthless scum that she is!"_

_"You're wrong," Harry grunted, feeling half of his magic being absorbed by the cursed vines while the rest were unable to find release because of the runes surrounding them._

_"The runes," Hermione groaned breathlessly, wincing from her wounds that were constantly being pricked by the thorns. "They only require one of us, and it can't be you Harry. Not after everything, I won't let it. You deserve happiness. I am assured you can have it with Ginny, and Ron-," she continued only to gasp as the thorns prodded harder at her side, leaving him a sobbing mess. "His family needs him to survive. They've already lost so much."_

_"NO! NO! DON'T DO THIS HERMIONE! THERE MUST BE ANOTHER WAY! NO!" Ron's desperate cries carried on in an echo joining his own anguished begging._

_"Hermione no! I can't-... I can't lose you! Please! Don't make me lose you too! Please! Hermione, please!"_

_Without end to her cruelty, Bellatrix casted the silencing spell to drown out their voices._

_"Just promise me two things," Hermione said, her voice warm and trusting and the only sound that they could hear. "Take care of my parents, and be happy, will you?"_

* * *

A light weight fell on his shoulder and he awoke to his magic that threatens to pulverize everything surrounding them.

Clenching his fists and taking deep breaths, Harry Potter tried to calm his nerves as his own angry magic fights his attempt to regain control.

A soft snore came from his right then, and he turned, a relieved cry bubbling from his mouth at the sight of the girl sleeping soundly with the book still tucked on her lap.

"Hermione," he whispered her name, feeling all his rage dissipate as he found her safe and relaxed.

He smiled when her eyes remained close and she buried her face deeper in his shoulder to draw warmth.

"I'm so, so, so sorry to you," he continued in a whisper, letting his magic wrap around them like a bubble that blocks out any unwanted onlookers or listeners. With their privacy secured, he conjured tiny little fireflies and let them circle around them to keep her warm.

She hummed contentedly, and he watched, mesmerized and memorizing how peaceful she looks, reminding himself that this is it. This is exactly what he's fighting for.

"You like it here, don't you?" he found himself asking in trance, lulled by her presence and the assurance that she's lost in sleep and unable to hear him.

He would take this chance to say these things to her. After all, with his luck, who knows if this is the only one he'll have?

"It was devious of you, forcing me to promise you things when I couldn't even keep you safe. But I kept them as you know I would. Your parents are here with you. I've made sure that they're safe and protected. They can finally live without regrets, carrying on their dental practice with you as their beloved daughter. They can be with you and watch you grow into the woman you're always meant to become. I swear to you, I'd fight tooth and nail so that no one will take that away from you."

She smiled then, and for a second, he feared she's awake. But her eyes remained close, he sighed in relief.

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he whispered his next words like a caress. "You know I love you, don't you? You know I'll do anything to keep you safe? Even if you can't remember who I am and what I mean to you, your happiness is the most important thing in the world to me. So you can trust me. I'm your best friend. I'll always, always-"

Her movements made him pause, and he was glad to have drawn his magic back just in time.

"Harry?" she yawned. "How long have I been asleep?"

He shrugged, secretly pleased that she can be comfortable around him.

"Not much."

Her eyes met his then, and she frowned, surprising him when her hands cupped his face so she can look at him.

"Wait a second. What happened to you? Why are your eyes red?" she asked worriedly.

He chuckled. "Oh nothing, I fell asleep too. Just woke up myself. Guess the rain really knocked me down."

She looks doubtful, but he can tell she wants to believe him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she tried again.

"I am," he assured. "Really, I am. Don't worry about it." Then, offering her his hand, he helped them both up. "How about a coffee break? I think we both can use some food and caffeine."

His invitation was out before he can think of the consequences, and he found himself blushing and preparing for disappointment. Maybe she still sees him as a stranger. Maybe he pushed his luck too much.

"Sure, I'd like that," she said, her smile warming up his chest. "How about the cafe on the third floor? Their chocolate cake is to die for!"

"Sounds good," he replied, walking alongside her.

_You're here. Everything's okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :) Hope you enjoyed it! I'd love to read comments if you do.


	5. Getting to Know You Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm just a girl who likes to read," she tells him about herself.
> 
> At this, Harry had to stifle his laughter. Because how can he tell her that she's also the girl who raided a magical bank and led their escape in a dragon's back?

Hermione didn't expect to see him again and so soon at that. But here they were in the café she recently discovered sells good food, with him pulling the chair for her.

"Thank you," she says in gratitude, offering him a kind smile as he took the seat across hers, perfectly ignoring the waitress who was trying to catch his eyes.

Hermione tried not to giggle, still unsure if her newfound acquaintance was doing it on purpose or was simply ignorant of the attention he was receiving from the female population.

They had only just walked a short distance out the library, onto the elevator and now to here, and already, she had caught three university girls, two business women, and now their waitress trying to flirt with him.

She had to hand it to him though. Harry only smiled at them in politeness and continued on conversing with her, sounding thoroughly interested about her master's research and the extra-curricular works she does in her free time.

When she first brought up the subject upon his inquiry, she reminded herself to give him only the gist, knowing from experience how easily it can bore people away. And so, she told him about her being a student researcher working along her professors while finishing her last semester as an MBA student for Project and Program Management.

She had not expected his eyes to light up at her answer and for him to ask so many questions after that. In a span of ten minutes, he had made her give him a brief summary of her life at the university and the organizations she was involved with.

"I'm still blown away by how much you manage to do all that," he commented, still sounding as enthusiastic as when she first told him of the groups she had worked with to help clean the ocean, plant trees and help find homes for the orphans.

Hermione only smiled and covered her face with the menu, no longer wanting to see the waitress's put-off reaction to not being noticed.

"Yes, well, I have to, it's my job. But, anyway, enough of that. Let's order," she beckons, already eying her usual orders. "I recommend the decadent cakes. As for me, I'll have a salmon grill with steamed vegetables, a slice of Mayon cake, and a cup of earl grey tea please."

Harry arched his brow at her order. "What's Mayon cake?"

"Oh, it's the chocolate cake I told you about!" she answered excitedly. "I looked it up and found that it's named after a volcano in the Philippines. So the melted chocolate inside is like the lava, and when you slice it up, the filling overflows, it's SO good!"

Harry beams, amused at her reaction. "Sounds good," he agreed. "Alright. Then I'll have two slices of that, a plate of steak, medium rare please, and a glass of iced lemon tea with less ice."

"Will that be all?" asked the waitress, sounding eager and hopeful.

"Yes, that will be all, thank you," Harry answered for the both of them, finally looking up to glance at her. The waitress looked like she wanted to say something more but Harry was already back to talking to her, and Hermione, despite her pity for the girl, couldn't help but feel pleased.

"But really, how do you even come up with these ideas? And, how do you manage your time? I mean, wow, you sound like Wonder Woman if I ever met her," he tells her, unaware that the waitress had left them with a rather loud humph and a glare both directed at him.

Hermione listens to him talk, nodding every once in a while, trying but failing to cover her embarrassment at his high regard for her.

It wasn't always that she meets a stranger who seems really interested to get to know the real her, geek and all. She couldn't help but bask in the experience.

She had originally been planning to spend the day buried in books for research. But now, watching his eyes shift in different shades of green as he talks animatedly, she couldn't help but wonder if it was the change in scenery or the unexpected company that had done wonders for her mood.

Unknown to her, Harry Potter was feeling the happiest he had been in weeks. He was finally getting to know her again. And if her stories were anything to go by, he was filled with a sense of giddiness at the thought that, maybe, she hasn't changed so much after all.

She was still his best friend with her undying love for life and all that has it. Be they humans, animals, or magical creatures, if she finds them oppressed or suffering ill treatments from society, then Hermione Granger would fight for them.

Just knowing this feels his insides with warmth.

Her story was well known in the Wizarding World.

A muggle born who had no idea she was a witch until she received her first Hogwarts letter at age eleven. She was sorted into Gryffindor, where she befriended two mischievous boys – Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter. Not without judgements and criticisms, she struggled to prove that she deserves her magic just as much as any half blood or pure blood there ever was or could be. With her hard work and dedication to studies, she earned her titles as the brightest witch of her age, the brains of the Golden trio, founder and president of The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, advocate of werewolf rights, and later secured an Order of Merlin, First Class for her role in the defeat of Lord Voldemort.

Now here she was, in another realm, without her memories and without her magic, still fighting for the voiceless with everything that she has. And Harry Potter, as her best friend, couldn't be prouder.

The pride must have shone too much in his eyes and compliments because Hermione suddenly lowers her gaze to the table shyly, unable to hear any more of his blabbering.

"I'm just a girl who likes to read," she tells him about herself.

At this, Harry had to stifle his laughter. Because how can he tell her that she's also the girl who raided a magical bank and led their escape in a dragon's back?

 _No_ , he thought, _you're really just not. You're so much more._

It was a good thing the food arrived just in time. His mouth watered as the plates were set before them, causing her to giggle.

"Wow, you must be really hungry."

Harry laughed. "You have no idea. It feels like I can eat a hippo-" he stopped to clear his throat and grinned sheepishly at her. "Sorry, I mean hippopotamus. You can say I'm really bad at remembering things."

Hermione eyed him quizzically but didn't comment.

They ate in companionable silence, with him eating twice as fast as her.

He wasn't really surprised. Kingsley was right. Perhaps it's time to start taking better care of himself.

It wasn't until they were halfway through dessert that Hermione made it her turn to ask about his life.

The cake, as good as she had claimed it was, suddenly tastes like gravel as he forced out the lies.

He knew that his curiosity about her life would only make her curious about his own, and had long decided that he would try his best to be honest with her, and twist the truth to give her facts without breaking the Statute of Secrecy.

But he really should have practiced more, because as truthful as he wanted his cover up story to be, he should have known her instinct would scream strongly to identify his lies for all they were worth.

"I'm a retired police officer," he tells her when she asks about what he does for a living. "I used to head investigations and raids. Now, I still help out the team, but only as a consultant."

Hermione nodded her acknowledgement before taking a spoonful of cake.

Odd, she thought, because her instinct was telling her he was only partially telling the truth. But was the lie his first statement or the next? And why does he feel the need to lie at all? It was just a simple question.

"So what made you choose the job?" she followed up, feeling determined to find out more just to observe his reactions in case he has any tells.

Hermione suddenly remembered their first interaction.

 _"I'm not Mr. Potter. I'm just Harry, not Potter",_ he had said, with a desperate look that gave her the feeling that he would be physically ill if she calls him anything else.

She knows close to nothing about him, only his name and now whatever he was willing to share.

His unusual friendliness around her was definitely strange.

Strange, but not disconcerting, which only makes things even stranger.

Harry tried to hide his grimace behind a napkin, but she saw it all the same. His eyes lost their spark and turned forlorn.

"It's the other way around, actually. I didn't choose the job. Not at first, no. Instead, it chose me," Harry answered cryptically, and she appreciated that he gave a seconds pause to let his words sink in.

He was nervous, she can tell, watching how his fist clenches and unclenches as his jaw hardened as if he was preparing himself for an attack.

Hermione was about ready to tell him she wouldn't mind if they change their topic of conversation. She had a feeling his story would be painful for the both of them.

But Harry Potter surprised her yet again. He looked up to meet her eyes, and gave her a pained smile that felt like an arrow to her heart.

"You see, there was a very powerful psychopath who decided that I was his enemy. Apparently, he believed divination and all that crap. It didn't help that my parents were both fighting for a group set on ending him and his followers," he divulges, lowering his voice so only they can hear. Hermione now realized why he wanted an isolated table by the window with nothing but the dark sky outside.

"So when I was one, he targeted me and would have killed me, if not for my parents who died to protect me. I didn't learn what they've done until years later because I grew up under the care of my aunt and uncle who hated my parents. They told me they died in a car crash, and I believed them. I had no reason not to," he continued, pausing only to drink water. "It was only when I turned eleven, and I was visited by someone who's working for my parents' old professor, that I learned the truth about their death. They told me the psychopath was alive and still wanted me dead. Since then, I had to learn to defend myself from him and his followers who kept coming back to finish the job."

"You were just a baby," Hermione whispered with sympathy, surprising the both of them as her tear-struck brown orbs met his tired green eyes. Before she knew it, she had reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Harry's eyes softened at the familiar touch, his mask breaking to let a few tears slip out. He felt her hand about to pull away and was quick to grasp her fingers, unwilling to let go of the comfort only she can give him.

Her eyes startled in surprise for a second, and his nervousness grew that he was being too weird for a stranger she'd just met.

But then she sighed and didn't pull away, and her eyes were telling him to keep going, her hand squeezing his back, letting him know that she would hear him out, that she would stay.

It was like a block atop his chest was lifted with that one gesture.

He wouldn't deny himself of how much he misses having moments like this with her.

"I've never really been a normal child. I've never had a normal childhood either. I was eleven when a professor at school tried to kill me. Turned out, he was working for the psychopath. If it wasn't for my two best friends, my other professors and my sheer dumb luck, then I doubt I would have survived it. And that was just the first of many. Every year after that, more and more followers of the psychopath would show up and try to end me in one way or another. Sometimes, he would come himself. He might be a murderer and a sadist, but he's also a genius villain with too much power and connections at his command. The mere mention of his name brought fear to most people," Harry narrated, and then laughed bitterly as an afterthought. "Some still do even now."

"Losing a parent…it leaves you with a gaping hole…like you're never going to be whole again. I lost mine early but I know that they loved me. I was lucky to know more people. But the closer I get to them, the more in danger they become because of the threat on my life. I tried saving as much as I could, but I still ended up losing many. First, a schoolmate who became an unexpected ally, then my godfather, families of my schoolmates, mentors, classmates, my pet Hedwig, my…" Harry's voice broke but she held his hand tighter, giving him strength to keep going. They both knew he needed to let this out. "…My own best friend was tortured because of me. I know I was just one boy, one person, but I couldn't just leave things be. With help from many great people and creatures, especially from my two best friends who never left my side through the whole ordeal, I tried my best to survive. We trained and we fought, and we got him in the end."

Hermione could feel her own heart breaking at the sound of his pain but she put on a brave front for him.

"And I wasn't proud to have blood in my hands, but I needed to do it because only I could. Everyone else was afraid."

Hermione frowned, "And you weren't?"

Harry laughed humorlessly, his fingers rubbing circles on her palm.

"No, I was bat-shit scared," he admitted, causing her to rage.

"Of course you are! You were only a child!" she exclaimed, only to back pedalled and ask in dread, "Wait, how old were you when you-…when you killed him?"

Harry bit his cheek. "I was seventeen."

"And you saved so many lives," she commented, trying her best to mimic even an ounce of his earlier enthusiasm but knew instantly she was doing a bad imitation. Her heart was weeping for this man.

He tried to force out laughter, but stopped because it only made him feel worse.

She was surprised when he suddenly let go and pulled his hand away.

"Do you…well, do you still want to talk to me now? Or did my story scare you?" Harry started, leaving her dumbstruck that he even had to ask. But he couldn't see her face because he was too busy burning holes on the table with his anxious eyes. "I can understand if you want to leave. I know I'm not a normal guy. My story's pretty dark and I put people in danger."

She glared at him so hard, it was his turn to startle when she grabbed hold of her now cold early grey and threw it at his face.

"How dare you think that about yourself? I won't let you," she declared, not realizing what she's done just yet or the look the people around her were giving them. "And how could I not stay? None of that was your fault Harry. You did your best. You're a good man, a good person."

A staring contest ensued after she spoke those words, her defiance in full blast in her desire to change his views.

The same waitress from before had alerted her manager of their interaction. They were about to approach them to calm things down, but to everyone's surprise, the black haired man threw his head back in laughter, stood up from his chair to cross the table, and pulled the flabbergasted brunette in a bone crushing embrace.

Hermione froze at his reaction, but he took the opportunity to draw her even closer so he could bury his wet face in her hair.

There were so many things he wanted to say to her in that moment, but only two words came out in his relief.

"Thank you 'Mione."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know, I just feel I had to post this now :D Do tell me what you think if you'd like to read more. Thanks for reading!


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